


Maybe I Could Have This Again

by veroniquemagique



Category: Grace and Frankie (TV)
Genre: F/F, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 11:30:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10830381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veroniquemagique/pseuds/veroniquemagique
Summary: Robert and Sol decide that they want to try again with their dream wedding, and Grace volunteers to help out, but along the way she starts to think more and more about her relationship with Frankie.





	Maybe I Could Have This Again

“Frankie, get your elbow out of my side,” Grace grumbled, turning around so her back was facing the other woman occupying her bed, again. She couldn’t count how many times this has happened now, but after a while it just became a routine and she didn’t care enough to fight about it anymore.

She _did_ care however, about the repeated jabbing of Frankie’s elbow into her side, and now her back. Grace sat up and turned around to face Frankie, glaring at her and shaking her head as she just watched the woman flip through a… a scrapbook? She wasn’t sure.

“What are you doing?” She asked. Frankie smiled and looked up at her.

“I’m trying to figure out what kind of stuff we should do for the wedding,” Frankie said, as though that was supposed to be obvious to Grace. She rolled her eyes. The wedding.

The other day, their exes had gathered them all up - the whole family circus - and announced that they wanted to take another crack at their wedding. It made sense, of course, given all that had transpired with the last one - Robert’s heart attack, Sol’s infidelity… if that’s what you’d call that mess. However, all that had come to mean is that now Frankie was vigorously pouring herself into helping out in the most outlandish ways. Well, probably not outlandish to Frankie, or Sol for that matter, but she didn’t think all these… different ideas of hers would mesh well with Robert. Yesterday she suggested that their first dance together be an interpretive rain dance or something.

“Well,” Grace began, running her hand through her hair and reaching over to take and close Frankie’s book, “I’m trying to sleep - emphasis on _trying_.”

“Oh fine,” Frankie relented, turning off the lamp and snuggling up close to Grace, not quite touching but close enough to radiate immense warmth. That used to bother Grace too, but she had gotten used to it.

“Nighty night, Grace,” Frankie sighed happily, humming and turning away from her.

“Good night,” Grace smiled to herself, her thoughts shifting back to the impending wedding that she and her bedmate had agreed to help out with.

It would be much less stressful with more than a few hours this time, she imagined. Also, without the looming fear that Robert might die soon after. All of their issues be damned, she still did care about him in some regard. She was reminded of that fear so vividly when Frankie had her stroke and she watched process unfold in front of her in the car that day, although Grace would argue that _that_ fear had been so much more, a true raw terror.

She shook her head, no need to think about that right now. Frankie was fine, lightly snoring beside her. Ah yes, the wedding. She hadn’t really thought of what she was going to offer, just assuming that Robert would delegate something and she’d just occupy herself with it, silently promising herself that she’d drag Frankie along to keep her and her unorthodox ideas out of their hair. Plus, things were always more fun with Frankie around, or at least… more eventful.

As she started to feel her eyes droop, Grace’s mind wandered further. These kind of affairs always made her feel so much longing. Longing for something she wanted but didn’t know if she could have. Lord knows, she and Frankie would probably just spend the rest of their lives a couple of old single spinsters together in this beach house. She couldn’t imagine ever getting married again, not because she didn’t want to, but honestly at this point in her life, she couldn’t imagine ever spending it with another man like that.

She felt the toss of Frankie’s body and then the thud of her arm draping across her waist, and she knew it was time to go to sleep. Time to ignore the feeling of immense comfort and warmth that she tingled with as Frankie sleep-rolled closer to her. That was her forte, especially when the feelings involved were the ones that arose whenever Frankie was by her side, or pressed up against it, for that matter.

-

“Mom, how’s that one look?” Mallory asked, waiting patiently for Grace to exit the dressing room in the eighth dress she had tried on so far that afternoon. Honestly, even Grace was losing her patience with the whole ordeal. None of these dresses felt right, and she had to find one that felt right. It was a lot harder to stun a room full of people - especially fashionable gay men - with a subpar outfit that she didn’t even like.

“No, no,” Grace sighed, pushing the door open, the last three dresses slung over her arm, intended for the reject rack. “We should just let it go for today. Try again later.”

“Mommy,” Brianna said, checking out her own chosen outfit out in the adjacent mirror. It clung to her in all the right places and would really catch some eyes. “You’ve got to pick something. We’ve already been out twice this week looking.”

Grace shook her head. “I can’t help it. None of these are any good,” she motioned to the dresses as she threw them on the rack by the door. “I’m going to go take one last look, but I really think we should just go home.”

Grace walked out before either of her daughters could respond, and she took a deep breath, aimlessly walking through the racks of this store, not really intending to find something among the racks of clothing she’d already scanned multiple times in the past hour or so. She was surprised then, when a bright piece of yellow fabric caught her eye up on the wall. She pulled it down - an elegant jumpsuit. Grace practically ran back to the dressing room, excited to try it on, already having a good feeling about it.

“Did you find something?” Mallory asked, barely getting to see what Grace was clinging to as she pushed her way back into the dressing room.

“Just hold on a minute, girls,” Grace replied, unbuttoning her blouse for the… oh god she’d lost count - so she could try on her brilliant new find.

“What do you think?” she asked, biting her lip as she stepped out to face her daughters and the mirror. As soon as she caught sight of herself in the mirror, she stopped, and what she saw filled her with a giddy kind of happiness. This was the one.

“That’s… bold,” Brianna said, after a moment of taking in the outfit. Grace twisted to try to see the back of it in her reflection, just admiring how well it fit her and how nice it made her feel.

“Yeah, well, Frankie’s always saying that yellow is my color,” Grace laughed, “I guess she was right after all.”

Mallory and Brianna exchanged a look at that comment, one that didn’t go unnoticed by Grace, but she didn’t really let herself think much of it. After over thirty years of being an outsider to those shared looks and unspoken words, Grace had stopped trying to decipher what they meant.

“Yes, get a belt, and a nice purse and pair of heels…” Grace continued, “oh, this’ll be a really nice ensemble.” Since she had mentioned it, now all she could think about was “ _what would Frankie think?_ ” and “ _would she like it?_ ”.

She headed back into the little room to change out of her lucky find, and while she was changing she heard whispers just outside - they must’ve thought they were being quiet, but not enough, clearly.

“Wow.”

“I know, right? I would’ve thought she’d jump at the chance to wear the most stunning dress at a wedding with no brides.”

“Who knows, she’s changed quite a bit since… well, since she moved in with Frankie. Maybe it’s affected her fashion sense too.”

Grace scoffed at the implication, but quietly continued to listen in on her daughters’ conversation.

“I'm beginning to think it’s affecting her in another sense beside that…”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, Mal, there’s just something different between them. I mean, remember that time we got her high and she poured out her heart to Frankie? I was too stoned to think much of it then but…”

Grace decided that was enough of that, and walked out into the larger room, effectively ending the conversation before it could go somewhere she didn’t want to hear. Of course Frankie had influenced her in some ways, but… but they were being absurd. What would give them the impression that she… and with Frankie…?

“Ready to go, girls?” Grace asked, walking past the two of them and making a beeline for the cash register. The associate rung up the jumpsuit, and handed Grace the card machine as Brianna and Mallory caught up to her.

“Here you go, ma’am, have a nice day,” the young girl said, smiling sweetly as she handed Grace her bag. Grace’s phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out to see a text from Frankie asking her to pick up her usual from Del Taco on the way home. For a moment she considered it, before remembering just how much damn salt was in that faux-Mexican nightmare. No, she’d just make dinner for Frankie herself, as she usually did, crushing her pills into it and making sure she didn’t add any unhealthy surprises.

“Gotta go,” Grace kissed each of her daughter’s cheeks and made her way out of the store. She was more than satisfied with her purchase, and she had an overwhelming urge to go home and show Frankie right away. No, maybe after supper, or maybe she would just wait and surprise her at the ceremony. Oh, that was a fun thought.

-

“Grace, this really must be such a difficult undertaking for you,” Frankie teased, nudging Grace’s elbow as she put the car in park. Grace rolled her eyes, wondering where Frankie could’ve possibly been going with this now.

“And why is that?” she asked, looking over at Frankie as she reached back for her purse. Frankie looked back at her with a big grin and winked.

“Oh, you know, your deadly fear of carbs. The thought of being around so much cake must make you weak in the knees,” Frankie laughed, and Grace couldn’t help but laugh too as she shook her head at the impossible woman.

“I’m not afraid of carbs, or cake, so get out of the car and come on,” she insisted, opening the car door and getting out into the mid-afternoon heat. Frankie followed her into the cake shop that Robert had sent her the name of, and God, did that air conditioning feel good against her skin.

“Hello ladies,” said the lady in an apron behind the counter. Grace walked up to the woman and out of the corner of her eye she saw Frankie head in the other direction, going to play with the cake decorations sitting over on a shelf.

“Hi, we’d, uh,” Grace glanced back at Frankie’s display and took a deep breath. “We’d like to place an order - for a wedding cake.”

The woman nodded, and took out a little pad of paper and a pen. “Ok, that’s great. Anything in particular that you’re looking for?” 

Grace began to list the few details that Robert had left with her, and the woman jotted them down as she spoke.

“... and we’d like the topper to be two grooms, if you don’t mind,” Grace added, and almost immediately the woman’s hand stopped and she looked up. Grace couldn’t quite pinpoint the expression on her face, but it didn’t look all too pleased.

“I don’t make fruitcakes,” the woman said in a low voice.

“Excuse me?” Grace asked, not believing what she was hearing. Frankie picked up on the change in tone and came over to her side.

“What’s going on, Grace?” she asked, gently touching her arm. Grace shook her head.

“This woman won’t make the cake for Robert and Sol,” Grace answered, still staring in disbelief at the bakery employee.

“What? Why not!”

“Because I don’t support that mockery of marriage,” she scoffed. “Two men getting married…”

“Excuse you! Who are you to say who can and can’t get married? Our ex-husbands love each other and there’s nothing wrong with that!” Frankie exploded, slamming her fist on the counter.

“What, are you a couple of sinners too?” The woman retorted, narrowing her eyes at the two. Grace gasped and felt her face get warm at the insinuation, but also saw Frankie snarl her lip - a sign that she was getting really mad - so she pushed her discomfort to the side for the time being.

“Why don’t you go eat a-” Frankie began, but Grace interrupted her by patting her shoulder. Frankie turned her angry gaze up at her, and Grace leaned in and gave her a little peck on the cheek. Her eyebrows shot up, and Grace felt her tense under her hand.

“Just go with it,” she whispered in Frankie’s ear, before pulling back and reaching for Frankie’s hand.

“Well love, I guess we’ll have to take our business elsewhere - to a more tolerant establishment,” Grace smiled her saccharine killer smile that she hadn’t used since her days at Say Grace.

“Yeah, that’s right, girl,” Frankie nodded, squeezing Grace’s hand and holding it close to her side.

“Why don’t you two get out of here, this is a family shop!” The woman demanded, and Grace scoffed. She let go of Frankie’s hand and moved her own around Frankie’s waist, resting it on her hip as Frankie mirrored her and held her tightly. She shot the angry woman one last shiteating grin and led Frankie out of the store.

“Your cake probably isn’t even that good!” Frankie called out over her shoulder as they walked out through the door, casually letting her hand slid down and rest on Grace’s behind. Grace’s breath caught in her throat, and she was suddenly very glad that the woman couldn’t see her reddening face anymore. She barely felt like she could breath as they untangled and got in the car.

Frankie buckled her seatbelt and let out a loud laugh. She reached over and gave Grace’s hand a good squeeze on the gear stick.

“What a great idea! We really showed her!” Frankie giggled, squirming happily in her seat.

“Yeah,” Grace exhaled shakily, trying to laugh along with her and not seem too distracted. She swallowed. “Although now we have to find another baker to do the cake.”

“Oh that shouldn’t be too hard,” Frankie shrugged. “Maybe we should look up gay-friendly bakers on Yelp first though.”

“Sure thing,” Grace nodded, biting her lip as she struggled to focus on the road ahead of her. She had done all of that in that bakery to stick it to that bigot, but the feeling she got when she kissed Frankie’s cheek, held her hand, felt Frankie’s hand on her behind… it was still there and it was overwhelming. She had felt strong feelings about Frankie before but this… this was different. Of course, she knew Frankie only did that as part of their little ruse, but it still left her shook up. The part of it all that scared her the most was that she kind of wanted to feel it again.

-

“Grace,” Robert warmly greeted as he stepped back to let her enter his home. She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek in return. Her mind immediately snapped back to the scene in the bakery and the very different feeling kiss she had given Frankie then. Frankie’s face had been much, much softer than Robert’s little bit of not-quite-stubble. She used to like that texture against her face, but lately it was losing its appeal.

“Ok, so we found a new baker, who preemptively agreed to do the cake, knowing it was for your wedding,” Grace began as Robert led her into the living room. She took a seat across from him and he offered her a martini he had already prepared. She held up her hand, politely declining, much to his surprise. She had been seriously trying to make an effort not to drink so much anymore, the night she drunkenly crashed Frankie’s dinner and let loose a fury of insults still plaguing her conscience. She never wanted to make anyone feel like that again, especially not Frankie.

“That’s great, Grace, thank you,” Robert smiled, taking a sip of his own martini.

“Is there much else left to do?” Grace asked, leaning back and resting her hands on her crossed legs.

“No, not much. But that does bring me to something important I wanted to ask you,” Robert replied, laying down the glass and leaning towards Grace. She raised an eyebrow at him, confused with where he could be going with this.

“Grace, could I ask you to consider being my maid of honor?” Robert exhaled, watching Grace as he let it sink in.

“Oh. Really?” Grace pointed at herself. “You want me? Your ex-wife?”

Robert chuckled. “Yes, Grace, you. Even with how horrible I’ve been to you over the years, you’ve always been there for me, and you’ve already dedicated yourself so much to this, not to mention what you did last time…”

“If you really want me to, I’d be delighted,” Grace smiled, reaching over and patting her hand on top of Robert’s.

“Sol and I discussed it, and after all we’ve been through, we agreed that we wanted it to be you two,” Robert nodded to himself.

“Us two? You mean, me and Frankie?” Grace questioned.

“Well there’s no rules saying we have to have only one maid of honor at a gay wedding now is there? I mean, it’s still the same role, functionally,” Robert replied. “And we don’t really care what you wear either, as long as you’re comfortable. No themes.”

“That’s good, considering I already found something,” Grace laughed, picturing the lovely jumpsuit she bought a few weeks ago. She had since tracked down the perfect belt, clutch and heels to accompany it and complete the look.

“Oh, really? That’s great. I can’t wait to see it,” Robert nodded appreciatively. “I guess I’ll leave it a surprise until the ceremony.”

“I guess so,” Grace said, leaning back and glancing out the window at the feeding hummingbirds. She always liked them, they reminded her of herself. Always busy, working so hard just to maintain themselves. Resilient birds. Better than the chickens Frankie kept insisting they adopt. They probably smelled less repugnant too.

-

The day had finally come, and Grace was back with Robert and her girls helping him get himself ready for the big moment. She had debuted her vibrant outfit to her family and received a handful of compliments so far, but the one person she had not come across since she showed up was Frankie, the person she really wanted to show off to the most. No, not really show off, that was too boisterous… she just wanted to know what Frankie would think of her. She didn’t have time to think too much about that right now though.

Robert was pacing, reading and rereading his vows, and all Grace could think was that he seemed far more nervous than the day of their wedding. Maybe because his heart wasn’t into it the same way that it is now. She was past holding that against him though, just content with the fact that he was happier now. That chapter of both of their lives was over.

“Grace?” Coyote’s voice came into the room, his head poking around the door as he made his way in. “Oh there you are.”

“Can I help you?” Grace asked, raising an eyebrow at him as he came across the room and meekly waved at Mallory and Brianna. Mallory smiled at him, but Brianna was too busy on her phone to notice.

“Mom’s looking for you, she wants you to help her with… her hair I think?” Coyote said, pointing out the door behind him, Robert almost walking into him as he paced.

_Of course she does,_ Grace thought. She turned to her girls. “Can you two calm down your father?”

Mallory nodded and when Brianna didn’t respond, she elbowed her in the side. She looked up and nodded, shooting her mother a quick thumbs up, before Grace just shook her head and left the room. She didn’t even wait for Coyote to tell her where his mother was, she just figured she’d rely on that knack for always managing to find Frankie that she had acquired over the past few years.

She knew she had found the woman in question when she heard a not-so-quiet yodeling coming from the next room down the hall. Grace chuckled to herself, and pushed the door open to see Frankie tightly clutching at her hair and pacing in a similar fashion to the scene she had just left behind in the other room.

“Ahem,” Grace cleared her throat, grabbing Frankie’s attention. She stopped in her tracks and her eyes slowly swept up and down Grace’s body, taking in the bold outfit. Immediately, her face lit up with a beaming smile that made Grace’s face feel warm.

“Grace! There you are! I can’t decide if I want to leave my hair down or pin it up, what do you think would be better?” Frankie came up to her, fanning her fingers through her hair. Grace rested her hand on Frankie’s shoulder and held her back a bit so she could take a good look at her. Frankie was wearing a layered, flowing outfit comprised of deep shades of purple and blue, adorned with a chunky necklace that seemed very familiar… wait, was that the one Grace gave her for her birthday? It _was_. Oh. How… sweet.

“I think,” she said, lifting Frankie’s hair off of her shoulders herself, “that maybe it would be nice pinned up today.”

Frankie nodded, and Grace went over to fish through Frankie’s bag for some pins – although Lord only knows what she’d find in there. Luckily, she did manage to find some, and motioned for Frankie to come over and sit down in front of her. She took a deep breath and let her fingers run through the woman’s hair again – she always admired the soft, comforting way it felt, the way the slight scent of pot that it always seemed to have had grown sweet to her the more she was around it. Frankie’s hair was kind of mesmerizing… okay, _Frankie_ was kind of mesmerizing, in ways she couldn’t explain.

Grace took her time pulling the mass of hair up and pinning it into place. It was making her nostalgic for that time that she dressed Frankie up before, and let Frankie dress her, and they went out for that “say yes” night. The night they had danced on the bar, got kicked out of said bar, and sat on the curb together surprisingly peacefully after their car was towed. Come to think of it, that was the first night she really began to appreciate Frankie for who and what she was… or maybe it was the day they went for frozen yogurt and she dreamt about Frankie taking care of her… ah, hell, she couldn’t really pinpoint it but a lot had changed about the way she saw the woman sitting in front of her now. Dislike – she never really hated her – to friendship… and now whatever you could call what she was feeling.

“There,” she said, pushing the last pin into the neat little updo she had crafted atop Frankie’s head. A few strands made their way loose here and there but honestly, it looked even more beautiful.

“Oh gee, thank you Grace,” Frankie said, jumping up and turning around to face Grace. She leaned in and quickly pressed her lips against Grace’s cheek, leaving the woman stunned, just like the other week when she had done the same in that bakery.

Before either of them could do anything more, there was a knock on the door. “Mom? Frankie? It’s time to go,” Brianna’s voice cut through. Frankie linked her arm through Grace’s and patted her hand.

“Let’s go see our exes get married again, hey girl?” Frankie chuckled, and they made their way out of the room together and towards the happy couple.

“Thanks so much again for doing this girls,” Robert said as he glanced up lovingly at Sol.

Grace smiled. “Our pleasure.”

“Of course! Anything for our favourite gay couple,” Frankie nodded. They all just laughed, before their attention was drawn to the music that began to play from the adjoining room. Grace felt Frankie grip her hand close, and she took a deep breath before she pushed the curtain separating them and the guests to the side.

Grace tried to keep her gaze forward, but she can’t help but sneak glances at the woman on her arm. She never imagined there would be a day she would walk down the aisle with another woman on her arm… let alone Frankie Bergstein, of all people… but doing it now… it honestly made Grace feel like crying. She looked absolutely radiant, especially when she met Grace’s gaze every now and then, and it just felt so right, her arm through Grace’s arm, her hand holding Grace’s hand tight like she never wanted to let go. Honestly, she didn’t want to let her go either, not now, although they had to as they reached the end of the aisle and had to split to make way for the married couple. As Robert and Sol entered in a similar fashion, Grace’s eyes drifted back to Frankie, who was focused, like everyone else, on their procession and reading of vows.

The words she was sure were incredibly meaningful and heartfelt mostly went over her head - it was too occupied with the beaming smile of the woman opposite her. Frankie had a really beautiful smile, she’s always believed that. Frankie’s eyes met hers again and she winked at Grace, which made the room suddenly feel about twenty degrees warmer than it had a moment before.

“I do,” Sol said, and the invitation for the men to kiss brought Grace back into focus. It really was sweet, seeing them have the wedding that they wanted, but the more she stood there in that moment, the more she longed for it herself. To completely and fully give her heart to someone that had done the same for her… had seen her through her hardest moments and stuck by her side no matter what bullshit she let fly, someone who drove her crazy but in the best way, someone who cared enough to… to stay… with her, and only her. Her eyes had found their way back to Frankie’s once more and it was with the look she received back that she could swear was mirroring her own thoughts that Grace realized she was truly and honestly fucked.

-

“Come on girl, let’s dance!” Frankie insisted, dragging Grace up out of her chair and away from the first and only drink she had allowed herself that evening. She didn’t put up too much of a fight, despite the eyes she felt on her back. It was a lot easier to say “fuck it” when she was with Frankie.

They danced together for what felt like hours, fun, lively song after fun, lively song filling the dance floor. There were other couples on the floor, who were certainly dancing better than she was, but she couldn’t bring herself to be bothered about it. Frankie was shimmying and twirling around her and it felt heavenly, if not incredibly exhausting to keep up with. She couldn’t help but laugh either, drawn in by Frankie’s own infectious, deep laughter as she really enjoyed herself there with Grace.

Within minutes, the song petered out and began to shift to a much, much slower one, finally. Frankie let out a heavy breath, and turned to leave the dance floor and go sit down for a breather. Before she could make it far though, Grace reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. She turned back around, confusion written over her face.

“Wanna dance?” Grace asked softly, but not softly enough that Frankie couldn’t hear her over the music.

“What do you call what we were just doing? Some sort of mating ritual?” Frankie laughed, glancing down at Grace’s hand.

“No, seriously,” Grace said, giving her a little tug, an invitation Frankie happily accepted, coming up close to Grace and placing one hand on her hip and the other on her shoulder. Grace took a deep breath and mirrored it with her own hands, swallowing deeply at how remarkably soft Frankie felt under her touch, and how warm her hands felt against Grace’s own body.

“You look really amazing tonight,” she added after they managed to get into the swing of the slower beat, and she was confident Frankie wouldn’t crush her heels with those clogs.

“Why thank you,” Frankie smiled, “but I do owe you a little credit for this masterpiece.” She nodded up at her hair, which made Grace smiled back at her, and take a chance to pull her a little closer. Frankie didn’t seem to mind at all.

“You’re one hot number tonight yourself, Grace,” she continued. “That bright yellow get-up really suits you. It kind of makes you look like a sultry banana.” She let out a low hum that made Grace flush and glance away for a moment.

“Th-thank you…” she stammered, biting her lip. She looked back at Frankie, who was watching her with wide eyes and way too much fondness for her to deal with being so close to her right now. However, instead of running away, like she normally might have, she decided to just go with it, letting out a shaky laugh at Frankie’s compliment. A sultry banana… God, this woman was going to be the death of her yet.

“Frankie, I…” she tried, but found herself at a loss for words as the woman laid her head against her shoulder gently. Oh God, too close, too close. Grace’s heart felt like it was about to pound right out of her chest right then and there in the middle of the room.

“I love being with you, Grace,” Frankie sighed, just loud enough for Grace to hear. It made her breath hitch and the rest of her body caught up with that statement seconds later. She stopped swaying to the music, and it made Frankie look up at her with concern.

Grace just looked at her for a moment, her heart racing, and without another thought, let go of Frankie to hold her face and pull their lips together. She knew she’d have a _lot_ of questions to answer later, but God, did it ever feel right, _so right_. Frankie placed her hands on Grace’s waist and leaned into the kiss. In that moment, Grace felt like she was in her own world, one only occupied by her and by Frankie. She could live there with her forever, honestly, if only she didn’t need to breathe.

She pulled away, but was still wrapped up in the haze of it, the taste of Frankie fresh on her lips. Grace felt more intoxicated by that sweet, sweet, kiss than any vodka martini she had ever had. The best part of it though, was that Frankie had kissed her back, and was looking back at her with so much love.

“I-I think that’s enough dancing for now, hm?” Grace said, and Frankie smiled and nodded, reaching for her hand. Frankie led her off of the dance floor, and scooted two chairs closer at a nearby table before sitting down. She wrapped her arms around Grace and held onto her tightly, leaning her head against Grace’s shoulder with the same kind of warmth as when they were out on the dance floor, in each other’s arms. They stayed there for most of the rest of the night, with Frankie leaning up for the occasional kiss, and Grace was more than happy to oblige.

- 

Just before the night was done, the not-so-newlyweds called up all of the single guests, and instinctively Grace pulled herself up out of Frankie’s reach and made her way up to where her ex-husband was clutching the bouquet from the centerpiece on their table. She stood kind of in the back, not really having any expectations of catching the inevitable toss, or of what it symbolized. So, incidentally, Grace was very surprised when the bouquet came flying in her direction, and she reached out for it, if only to stop it from hitting her smack in the face.

Wow. She had actually caught the bouquet. Given the events that had transpired already that night, her head immediately turned back to where she had left… Frankie, and she caught sight of her bright smile yet again, the smile that would never get old, even as they did.

_Maybe I could have this again after all._


End file.
